Nothing Ever Changes
by EleniDalby
Summary: To all of you who dislike Hank in his Kitty form...isn't it about time someone or something changed him back? Hank OC
1. Chapter 1

A/N: - First off, hi. Secondly, a HUGE thank you to Stars and Garters (who is an all time genius, really!) for helping me out so hugely with this (go read her stuff btw it's AWESOME) and lastly, updates on this are probably gonna be slow :s back at college so.

Chapter One

Bobby Drake couldn't help grinning as he looked around the little group that had gathered around the Christmas tree late in the evening.

It was your typical X-Man-style Christmas.

Logan was dozing in the chair closest to the fire, eyes half shut and the beer can in his hands tilting at a dangerous angle ... well, after fifteen beers, five brandies and a shot of tequila it was no surprise really. Hank, Ororo and Kurt were lazing over each other on the sofa. Ro's head rested on Kurt's lap as they murmured a conversation; her long legs were draped over Hank McCoy's lap and the Doctor was using her shins as a makeshift table as he scribbled in his brand new journal.

The Iceman sighed and turned away, perched on the edge of the windowsill he watched the storm rage outside and basked in the warm, fuzzy feeling he got whenever he thought about not being out there in the cold.

"Gonna do something about that storm, Ro?" Logan slurred, blinking lazily. The weather witch raised her head with a happy grin,

"No ... however, I am gonna steal McCoy's book - yoink!" She yelled as she snatched the little journal from the doctor's furry grip,

"Errr-- We might have a problem here guys," Bobby said still looking out the window.

"Quite, give that back, Ro," Hank said with a playful growl, claw tips tickling the weather witch's side oh so carefully.

Ororo giggled and curled up around the journal, its dark leather now dented with five small claw-tip marks where Hank had gripped it.

"Why? I wanna read about whoever you're crushing on now" She said, flipping through the pages without even looking and gave a quick squeal as Hank renewed his assult, tickling her without mercy to get the book back. Laughing, Kurt attempted to untangle himself from the scuffle, whilst still trying to support Ororo's head. It did nothing but add to her laughter.

"Um, no guys, I'm serious," The Iceman reiterated over his shoulder.

Logan frowned and pushed himself out of his chair to join him.

"The Frozen Daiquiri? Serious? My God, it's a Christmas Miracle!" He smirked before following Bobby's gaze, his expression turned quickly to a scowl, "Jesus" He breathed.

"What's wrong?" Ororo asked. As she paused to wipe a tear of laughter from her eye, Hank snatched back his journal with a gruff snort.

Logan turned to walk through teh hallways, opening the front door and stepping out into the howling wind and punishing rain as he unsheathed his claws. Whoever the hell this is they'd better not be causin' trouble.

Against the howling wind and punishing rain, a broad wedge of yellow light spilled into the storm as Logan wrenched open the front door. He drew a deep breath, smelled nothing and stepped into the rain. He flung the beercan into the dark, fists clenched as he unsheathed his claws. The warm light from the hallway glittered on the adamantium. Logan crouched, a dark spectre in the dismal Christmas night.

The approaching figure was little more than a dark shape clothed in a floor length cloak, a gloved hand visible was holding the hood of the cloak shut as it staggered against the force of the wind. Logan turned his head slightly, aware of the others moving out to join him, "Ro, think you could-"

"Working on it," Ororo was already looking skyward, bending the rain to her will and forcing it to become lighter, the howling wind to die down to a breeze. The figure on the path nearly fell over as the wind suddenly ceased. "Sorry," Storm murmured under her breath.

"Anyone know who it is?" Bobby asked, squinting to try and catch a glimpse of the figure beneath the cloak.

"Can't catch a scent," Logan and Hank chorused softly.

"Perhaps it vould be prudent to ask?" Kurt suggested with a smile as the figure reached the bottom of the steps, stopping with the cloak - heavy with rain water - pooling around its feet,

"You are the X-men?" She - it was definitely a woman's voice, rich and slightly husky - asked, still clutching the hood tight around her head and not looking up.

"Could be" Logan answered, drawing a cigar from his shit pocket. He paused as he bit the end and spat teh tip into a nearby box hedge. "My turn now ... two questions, sweetheart. Who are ya' an' what do ya' want? Ya sure don't look like ya came to sing us and Christmas carols."

"Who I am is of no concern to you and I am here to beg for sanctuary, not for me" She reached back into the folds of her volumionous cloak and pushed forward a small figure who had been hiding there, sheltered against the howling winds and pouring rain that had been battering the both of them, "but I will fight for the childs saftey," she said solemly. "Asha, say hello to the nice lady and gentlemen."

The little girl reached up to the hood of her own cloak, pushing it back and looking up with nervously wide, pupil-less amber eyes, pushing strands of curly blonde hair back behind her pointed ear.

"Hello," She said in a trembling tone.


	2. Chapter 2

Sorry folks. Stuff's got a bit heavy in my life, I know I've been totally slack updating but I'll get myself back on track :) This chapter is dedicated to Trekkie907 who's kind words really helped. Oh, and sorry if it's rusty, I'm a bit out of practice.

* * *

Chapter Two

"That's it? That's what you came all this way for?" Logan asked, watching the pool of water beneath the strangers chair getting larger as she literally drip dried. The woman looked up at him with green eyes that seemed just a touch too wide to be completely human. It was like staring into a couple of crystals. Logan shifted deeper into his chair, beer can balanced on one knee.

"Sort of." She said slowly, carefully, her gaze returning to where Asha and Kurt were playing with the electric cars on the carpet in front of the fire.

"Why us?" Hank asked, shifting in his seat. There was something familiar about her, if only he could figure out _what_... "how do you know we can keep her safe?"

"Other than the fact that Xavier's is _known _to be a safe house for mutant children?" The woman asked with a dryly amused tilt to her tone. "I've been watching." She looked around the room. "For quite some time. I wouldn't leave my daughter with people I knew would place her in danger." She looked at Asha again, her eyes sad and hard and vulnerable all at the same time. "I want her to have the opportunity to have the education that you offer here, to have friends, to be...settled."

"I understand." Ororo said warmly, placing a cup of coffee into the woman's hands. "It's clear you're desperate for her to be safe. It's admirable. But we will need your name, a contact number-"

"And now we get to the difficult bit." The woman stood up, moving to stand beside the fire. Hank squinted at the cloak she wore, the way it moved wasn't quite right. "My work is...complicated. The people who employ me don't know I'm here but they _do_ know I have a daughter." There was a thoughtful silence that went on perhaps a second or two too long.

"You can't just leave her here without-"

"Yes. I know. I know how it must sound." The stranger raised a hand, the fingers slightly too long not defensively but as if begging for a moment. "There is an account for Asha at a certain, well-respected bank. I'll give you the details. There's plenty of money there for her educational fees, food, board, clothing, toys...she likes barbie at the minute." The strangers nose wrinkled, whether in distaste or a lack of understanding no one could really tell. "she's not allergic to anything that I know of and her favourite colour is yellow." The stranger cleared her throat, blinking as if waking up from a dream. Or a nightmare.

"Perhaps we should go somewhere private to talk?" Hank suggested. The stranger stared at them each in turn, Hank, Logan and Ororo, for a moment before nodding curtly.

"Mom?" Asha looked up from the remote control.

"I'm just going to have a chat and dry off, sweetheart, back in a minute." Hank saw the first genuine smile he'd seen so far from the woman as she looked at her worried daughters face.

"K." Asha said softly, quietly, a tiny frown on her equally tiny face.

"Who wants ice cream?" Bobby broke the silence enthusiastically.

"Oh! Me!" Kurt threw up both hands and Asha turned away from her mother with a broad grin. For a moment Hank swore he could see tears in the strangers eyes but if she had she blinked them away, her face carefully emotionless when she glanced at him.

"So. Talk." She said, more gently than he'd expected, once the four of them were alone.

"Why don't you take that cloak off, it doesn't seem to be drying out." Hank said kindly. The woman smiled at him, though there was little mirth behind it and shrugged. The cloak unfurled...but expanded, upwards and outwards, fanning around the woman in a dark grey aura. Beneath her folded wings she wore jeans, drenched and turned a dark blue from the rain, and a purple and grey hoodie - simple, unassuming clothes. Over one shoulder was slung a small, pink backpack.

"Wings. Nice." Logan grunted, a little surprised. That explained the size of her eyes at least.

"Thank you." The woman smiled at him, caught somewhere between amusement and sarcasm.

"If you intend to leave Asha with us we _will_ need some form of contact." Ororo said firmly. "What if she gets sick? Or needs you in some way?" The smile disappeared from the woman's face.

"I can't leave you with a number." She shrugged helplessly. "Even a mobile phone can be traced."

"What about a safe-box?" Ororo suggested. "A place where we can exchange letters or-"

"Instant messaging." Hank interrupted. "A quick, easy way of getting in contact with us wherever you are and vice versa, only you know the log-in detail and Asha could talk to you. If you wanted."

"You're a genius." The woman said quietly. "Absolutely perfect."

"Wouldn't go that far." Logan mumbled, earning a glare from his friend.

"We could arrange a time-"

"Can't." She huffed a laugh. "I know it's awkward but my work is erratic, I would be unable to stick to a set time." She shrugged. "Nice idea while it lasted though."

"Well." Hank frowned. "I'm on a computer most evenings, you could just log on anytime in the evening?" The woman frowned a little, head tilted to one side for a long moment.

"Yes. That'll work." She nodded. Ororo smiled at them both.

"Whoop-de-do." Logan said flatly. "What about the kid? What are we supposed to tell Asha when she wakes up in the morning and finds her mom gone?"

"Tell her I'll be back tomorrow."

"Will you?" Logan asked. The woman and Logan stared at each other for a long moment before she let her eyes drop to the floor.

"I don't know what else to do." She whispered. "Please. Take care of her." Logan pushed himself out of the chair.

"I get whey you're doing this. I've been in similar places before. But this is really going to mess that kid up." He said seriously, throwing the empty can into the bin and heading out the room but being ran into by a small, curly blond whirlwind. "Hey!"

"Sorry! Mom! Mom! We ate _ice cream_ until it ran out and then Rogue put some cherries and cream in a big pot and Bobby _froze it _Kurt had his hand stuck in it at the time and now he's got ice cream _everywhere_!" Asha giggled breathlessly as she flung herself at her mother, amber eyes shining. Kurt and Rogue stuck their head around the door sheepishly, bits of ice cream melting into indigo and auburn hair alike. Asha's mouth was a wide grin, ringed by sticky pink ice cream and chocolate.

"Chocolate? At this time of night?" The woman asked her daughter with a raised eyebrow. Asha just giggled all the more.

"Bobby." Ororo sighed, covering her face with her hand.

"Listen baby. I've got a meeting tonight. Why don't you stay here?"

"What? Sleep over?" Asha asked her mother in disbelief. "Really?"

"Really really." Came the smiling reply. "Ororo here says you can, don't you?" The woman looked up at Storm, pleading lurking behind her smile.

"Of course she can. Anytime." Ororo nodded.

"Awesome!" Asha pumped a tiny little fist. "Where do I sleep? Not in here?"

"No, we'll show you to the girls rooms." Rogue offered her hand and Asha took it, bouncing along beside her as she explained about how nice the other girl were. Ororo followed them out of the room, pausing in the doorway as if she was going to say something but simply offering a small smile instead before disappearing. Hank cleared his throat after a moment and offered the woman a tissue.

"Here's my card. All my details are on there for getting in contact." He said gently, offering her the pale cream and silver strip of card. She looked at it as if it held all the answers to the world. "Are you _sure_ you're doing the right thing?" Hank asked gently. This wasn't the first time a child had been left at Xavier's but it _was_ the first time a parent had come along with it.

"Yes." Her voice was absolute steel and the strip of card disappeared into the pocket jeans. "She'll be safe here." She became aware that he was staring at her. "What?"

"What _is_ your name?" He asked. "I can't keep thinking of you as Asha's Mother. Not when you're giving up so much. It doesn't seem right." She looked as if she'd been slapped, blinking at him.

"Uh. Lyra. It's Lyra." They both knew she was lying but Hank decided not to push it. Lyra shrugged off the pink backpack and handed it over. "There's clean clothes, an overnight bag, her blanket and Mr Snuffles in there. Someone will need to take her shopping for more things, the credit card is in the pocket along with the pin number and balance for the account." Lyra sighed heavily, letting go of the strap.

"Mr Snuffles?" Hank tried, he really tried, not to laugh, shouldering the little back pack

"Her teddy bear." Lyra said, a shade defensively. "Make sure she brushes her teeth...and tell her I love her very much..." She looked down, swallowing hard. Hank reached out to comfort her but she pulled away. "I'd like to leave now." She said softly. Hank led the way out in silence watching as she paused in the doorway. "Please take care of her."

"I will." He nodded to her and she hesitated a moment before offering her hand. Her grip was cool but firm in his big hand and she nodded again, seeming to brace herself.

"Thank you, Mr McCoy." Hank braced himself as she spread her wings, turning round to reveal the golden backs, before she took off - the down draught was worse than he'd thought but she rose quickly in the night sky, soon fading from sight.

"There's gonna be trouble." Logan said from somewhere behind him.

"Oh yes. I have no doubt." Hank murmured, squinting to try and find her. Logan took a long sip of beer, his eyes never leaving the dark sky.

"Nice backpack."


	3. Chapter 3

"Any news from Professor X?" Bobby asked the next morning as he padded into the kitchen, mismatched pajama's and hair both awry. He looked tiredly at Storm who was stood by the coffee machine giving him a look of amused disgust.

"He sends greetings from far off China and hopes everyone's well." Ororo looked around as she spoke, taking in Logan who was stood looking out of the french doors of the kitchen as he sipped his black coffee, Rogue who was poking at a bowl of cereal dispassionately with one hand buried in her curly hair, Kurt who was frowning with concentration as he dissected a grapefruit. "He says his research is going quite well."

"Any clue when he'll be back?" Hank yawned massively as he shuffled through the door, displaying an array of not-quite razor sharp teeth, and stretching tall enough that his knuckles almost brushed the ceiling.

"I think he's having too much fun to think about coming back any time soon." Ororo sighed, smiling despite herself as Kurt glanced up to look at her with concerned golden eyes. "It's ok. I'm managing."

"Managing?" Rogue asked with a lop-sided grin, gesturing with her spoon. "You're an awesome Headmistress-"

"Temporary." Bobby grunted, still half asleep and staggered forward as Hank playfully pushed past at him to get at a bagel. The scientist chuckled as Bobby punched his chest in retaliation, a little too hard but then Bobby was always grumpy first thing in the morning. Snagging that mornings paper from the breakfast bar, Hank went and sat in a comfortable chair on the other side of the room. Sprawling in it comfortably he started to chew on the still warm toasted bagel and let the sounds of early morning conversation wash over him. As his eyes scanned articles about "the Mutant Virus" and various murders, political changes and weather reports, his sharp ears sifted through talk about the school, it's students, friends and plans and -

"Good morning!" He glanced up from the paper at the sound of an unfamiliar voice. Over the edge of the breakfast bar he could just about see a wild mess of curly blond hair. A small hand appeared over the side, straining for a peach that Ororo generously supplied. Nearly everyone absently responded with return greetings and Asha appeared around the corner. Her face lit up into a smile as she spotted Hank and Logan and headed towards them, reaching out to drag one of the table chairs to sit close to them as if she'd lived there her entire life. "Good morning." She chirped again, biting into the peach, seemingly unmindful as juice ran down her chin.

"Mornin." Logan supplied eloquently, his eyes twinkling with amusement as the child made an unashamed mess. Hank sighed and put down his newspaper, reaching for a box of tissues on the side.

"How did you sleep?" He asked, kindly, as he offered her a tissue. Asha shook her head at him.

"Not done yet." She raised the already half eaten peach to indicate she still had mess to make. "I slept ok. When's mom coming to pick me up?" Hank took a deep breath and glanced up at Logan who was already pushing the doors open and stepping out onto the balcony. There seemed to be a sudden, sneaky race to leave the kitchen as quickly as possible. Hank was pinned in his chair by the fact that the little girl was sat right opposite him. He was slightly relieved to see that Ororo had stayed behind. He clutched the box of tissues a little tighter, claw tips digging into the box.

"Your mother..." Hank, the eloquent, the politician, struggled hard to find the words to say to the innocent child in front of him. "Er...she told us to tell you that-"

"She's not coming back. Is she?" Asha said flatly, watching as she rolled the peach stone around in her sticky hands. She looked up as Ororo came to perch on the arm of the chair beside Hank. "She thought I didn't know but I did. I'm not stupid." Asha sighed. "She treats me like a kid." The six year old said. Hank hid a smile behind his hand. He never laughed at pain, especially not at a child in pain, but it was hard to take that sentence as seriously as it was meant from someone sat in white, pink and lime green jim-jams.

"I'm sorry." Storm said quietly, wanting nothing more than to reach out and hold the little girl but Asha didn't seem to want that. Asha shrugged one shoulder and held out the peach stone. Ororo turned to take a tissue out of the box to pick it up with, when she turned back a ripe, large peach nestled in the girls hand. Hank hadn't turned away, he'd watched as the flesh seemed to whip around the stone from thin air...the process had been vaguely stomach turning.

"Don't freak out. Ok? Mom said you guys were like me." Asha whispered. Very carefully Hank reached out and picked up the peach, almost as if he expected it to disappear as soon as he touched it. His claw-tips sank into the flesh slightly and both he and Ororo watched as juice ran down his fingers into the soft velveteen fur on his hands.

"So you have...restorative powers?" Hank said quietly. The fur on the back of his neck was trying to stand on end.

"Not exactly." Asha shrugged again, pulling her feet up onto the chair to sit cross legged - lotus like. "Mom thinks I can do something to time but I don't. I just... reach in sideways and pull up, you know?" Asha looked up at two blank, adult faces. "Or not."

"What is it you reach into?" Hank asked, handing the peach to Storm.

"It's sort of like this but it's a bit more..." Asha struggled, her tiny face screwing up in concentration as her hands waved in the air. "It's impossible to describe but it's easy when you can see it." She shrugged in defeat, letting her hands drop and looking at them both as if pleading them to understand.

"It's alright." Hank shrugged in reply. "Not many people can understand how to do brain surgery but it's pretty easy once you know how." Asha stared at him like he was stupid.

"Neurosurgery? Not as difficult as it first looks." She said to the two surprised adults. "I think they make it sound complicated so that people think they're really clever." She looked down at her still sticky hands. "I have some theories on how Micro-vascular anastomosis might be improved but no one seems to want to hear them. Do you have a tissue please?" Hank and Ororo exchanged a look that quite clearly said 'what-have-we-here?'. Ororo passed Asha the tissue box without looking up.

"Maybe we should-"

"Do you feel like running some tests today, Asha?" Hank asked quickly, cutting across anything Storm was about to say. "We need to see what level of education to give you and it might be a good idea to start today."

"Okay." The little girl shrugged and hopped off the chair. "I'm going to get dressed and be back here in a minute."

"Don't forget to brush your teeth." Ororo called after her. Asha scowled but left quietly. Hank grinned at Storm.

"Well, this promises to be an interesting kind of day."

* * *

The day had been long, much longer than he'd expected and Hank slipped into his private office with something approaching relief. He sat down in his comfortable leather chair, a banana and crisp sandwich balanced on one of the arms and a strong mug of coffee on the desk in front of him. He settled into his latest paper (_Mutants and the unpredictable DNA by Dr H. P. McCoy_) and let his mind go wonderfully blank, focused only on the one soul issue at hand. He was typing on his specially modified keyboard for more than an hour before he saw the blinking notice sign in the lower right hand corner.

"Oops." He clicked on the IM box only to have a chatbox open instantly.

_LyraGold: Mr McCoy? Are you there? Heloooooo?_  
_LyraGold: McCoy? _  
_LyraGold: Is Asha there? Is she ok? Did she brush her teeth?_

Hank snorted into his coffee cup. Why were women so obsessed with teeth brushing? He put the cup down and stretched his feline fingers before typing out -

_Beast: Asha's at a slumber party, I can here the giggling from here. She seems to be fine. Yes. She brushed her teeth._  
_LyraGold: Thank you_

Hank minimized the window but sighed a second later as an alert flashed up to tell him that there was another message.

_LyraGold: Did she sleep alright?_  
_Beast: She slept fine, really. They gave her a little too much sugar but other than that she was out like a light._  
_LyraGold: Sugar? More chocolate? She's very sensitive to sugar you know._  
_Beast: Not my fault. Blame the kids. I'm a paragon of virtue as far as sugar is concerned._  
_LyraGold: *sighs* Alright. I know I'm going into over-protective mom mode but it's difficult. I miss her._

He stared at the computer screen a moment, his heart aching with sympathy but a little unsure as to how to respond.

_Beast: It must be difficult for you._  
_LyraGold: Mmm_

The last line flickered, almost as if his computer had a virus, before settling. He knew the computer system at Xavier's better than anyone else in the school, he was fairly certain it was just a technical glitch so he wasn't alarmed.

_LyraGold: So what's with the name? Beast? I thought something more like "Simba" or "Lionking" would have been more appropriate._

"Tact thy name is Lyra." Hank scowled, irked a little by the reference to his currently feline look. An experiment of his had gone horrendously wrong a while ago, leaving him taller, broader and, frankly, like Tony the Tiger on Barbiturates.

_Beast: You're lecturing me on names? Lyra? Gold?_  
_LyraGold: Ok, ok, I'm sorry. Beast just seems inappropriate is all. You were the only one to show any real compassion to us._

Hank stared at the screen, his jaw dropping for a moment. Was she trying to flirt with him? He cleared his throat, feeling a little embarrassed and more flattered than he would admit even to himself.

_Beast: Slight subject change. Ma'am, I think your daughter is a genius._  
_LyraGold: Keep going, McCoy, flattery will get you everywhere._  
_Beast: Lyra, I'm serious. Asha came out with the most interesting theories on brain surgery I've heard in a long time. We tried to test her IQ but it was off the charts for her age. Heck, even for my age_  
_LyraGold: What does that mean?_  
_Beast: Well, among other things, we have no idea how to educate her as yet. I suggest we put her in the biggest library we can find and leave her to it._  
_LyraGold: Ground-breaking._  
_Beast: Did you know she can read something in a book and apply it practically a few minutes later? I've never seen this kind of mind._  
_LyraGold: Yes. I know she's capable of that._

The scientist frowned at the screen. To be honest, he'd been expecting some kind of parental pride or jubilation, not a cool acknowledgement.

_LyraGold: Has she showed you the time-thing she does yet?_  
_Beast: She grew a peach from a stone, if that's what you're asking._  
_LyraGold: That's not all she can do. Keep an eye on her, McCoy, I don't think she's finished surprising us yet._  
_#LyraGold logged out#_

Hank sighed and sat back, all thoughts of his paper pushed to the back of his mind as he stared unseeing at the screen before him. Why was Lyra so damn mysterious? What or who was she trying to protect? What was it she did that was so dangerous? The scientist shook his head in an impatient little gesture. He was fairly certain that it didn't matter, that it was just his own curiosity. The real focus was, obviously, Asha. The little time-bending genius


	4. Chapter 4

"-so basically, she's _your_ summed up with an evil little grin. Hank looked between the headmistress, Logan and Kurt with stark amazement, his jaw loose.

"I'm no good with children." He argued flatly, aware of how lame the excuse sounded.

"All the kids here love you to pieces, Hank. You treat them with respect" Kurt said mildly, the vaguest ghost of amusement twinkling in his eyes.

"My work schedule is-"

"Taken care cut across Hank," Ororo interrupted, waving a handful of papers at him. "We'll take over marking from your classes and you can delegate what you like to anyone you choose. I've had a word with the rest of the staff and Charles, everyone's ok taking some of the weight from your shoulders." Hank sighed heavily, a child is a big responsibility, let alone one he had only just met, he frowned down at his hands. If he was honest, he loved kids, they didn't seem to be scared of him for a start, then there was the way their clever little minds worked and they were always so easy to laugh...but he wasn't ready to look after one on his own, as a surrogate parent, especially not one so talented and scared and alone...but he could see the logic in it. Wasn't he himself a genius? Wasn't he scared? Didn't he feel all alone?

"Why me?" He sighed heavily, knowing the exact answer to his question.

"Because she likes you" Kurt said with a shrug.

"Gotcha" Logan smirked.

"You're loving this, aren't you?McCoy snapped at Wolverine. Logan's smirk became a huge, eye crinkling grin.

"Oh hell yes." Came the unrepentant reply.

* * *

It was late afternoon before Hank got to see Asha in order to tell her the news. He was surprised in fact that she came to find him. He was sat at his desk, as usual, scowling at the email on the screen, claw-tips clicking on the hard surface in mild irritation. He stayed that way for a long time before realising that the chair strategically placed opposite him was now occupied. Asha stared at the rather generic painting of a lighthouse that was hung behind the blue furred scientist, apparently lost in her own world as she heaved a little sigh, her second hand books piled haphazardly on her lap.

"Ah, I'm sorry Asha, I didn't realise you were there. You should have said something." Hank said pleasantly, turning the screen with it's annoying email away. She smiled at him distantly, shrugging one shoulder in a surprisingly eloquent gesture, telling him that she didn't really mind. He had the distinct impression there was something she wanted to say and he wasn't disappointed.

"Do you sometimes wish you weren't more clever than other people?She asked quietly, her head bowed as she fiddled with the corner of one of the books. Hank looked down at the top of a small blond head with mild astonishment. How many times in his life had he thought the exact same thing? How he had pondered how much easier it would be to just fit in? Easier, yes, but still, a little bit cowardly. Fitting in, he had found, was over-rated.

"Sometimes." He replied, just as gently. "Why?"

"No reason." The little girl shrugged, swinging her feet idly. Hank waited, unsure of how to proceed, in a quiet way he wished he knew her better. "The other kids don't get it. They all want to talk about cartoons and movie stars and make up..."

"And you want to talk about nuclear fusion or liquid crystals or...?"

"The amazon jungle or the Louvre or the trouble in the middle East or anything _real_." Asha sniffled, wiping her nose on her sleeve roughly, angry at herself and the world. I mean I've tried, really _really_ tried to fit in and be cool and everything but I just..." She shook her head angrily, trying to stop herself crying and Hank couldn't help wincing at the state of her sleeve and the battalion of snot she was wiping on it.

"Have you ever considered it's ok to not be cool?He asked, offering her a box of tissues. She looked up at him with all the disbelief a six year old can muster. Which was actually quite a lot. "It's just another side of the argument." Hank said, raising one hand defensively.

"Your argument is flawed." She mumbled into her sleeve as she wiped her nose on it. Again. "It contains only honour and no human element" Hank didn't bother to suppress a chuckle at that.

"Am I cool?He asked. She gave him a look that almost immediately deflated his ego.

"I don't know. Maybe." She said honestly. Hank burst out laughing at that, he'd forgotten about the candid nature of some small children. She grinned back at him, another shoulder shrug indicating that she was sort-of sorry but guessed that he didn't really mind.

"You'd be surprised how many people think I am...well, I guess unpopular would be an adequate phrase. "Asha looked at him with an amount of disbelief that was touching. "Come now, I'm not exactly normal," He gestured to himself, taking in his blue fur, claws and generally feline appearance. And then there's my I.Q. on top of that." He sighed. "I guess I've long since accepted being different." He wondered who he was trying to convince. Her or himself.

"How do you stand it?" She asked him wonderingly.

"I'm lucky enough to have very good friends," He replied gently, unable to stand it any longer and offering her a box of tissues. "And also, sometimes it helps to remember that people need others to be more...adept at certain things."

"Like what?"

"Like...well, biochemistry? Politics?" He smiled. "People who are experts in the Louvre." Asha grinned back at him a little bashfully. "Have you ever been to the Metropolitan museum of art?He asked on impulse. Asha shook her head, blond curls bouncing around her cheeks.

"Mom was going to take me there this one time but...something came up." She said and glanced down at her lap as if she had said too much.

"How about tomorrow? It's a Saturday, no school for you and no work for me." Hank offered blatantly ignored the email on his computer screen that said otherwise and concentrated on the happy smile she leveled at him.

"Just you and me? For reals?"

"Well, we have to fetch you some clothes and school supplies, it wouldn't be_ too_ horrendously big a trip."

"Ok" Asha jumped off the chair, so tiny that she nearly disappeared from his view. "Thanks, Dr McCoy."

"It's Hank, Asha, just Hank." She nodded brightly and walked from the room, clutching her books to herself. Hank turned back to his screen, the email suddenly a lot less annoying and not realising that he was smiling. Maybe being a sudo-parent wasn't so bad?


	5. Chapter 5

Hank smiled down at the sleeping form on the car seat beside him with something approaching puzzled amusement. It had been one of the most exciting, frightening, exhilarating, frustrating, annoying and wonderful days of his entire life and it was all thanks to one small little girl.

He couldn't help but wonder if most parents felt this way _all the time_.

From the second they stepped foot into the Metropolitan Museum of Art Asha had not stopped talking. She wanted to know everything about everything - going so far as to quiz him on who had made the lighting, who had designed this or that and why, who had painted this, what their lives had been like. She slowed time down to a fine point where droplets of moisture could be seen in the air just so she could study ancient Egyptian texts that were on display. Asha was a humanitarian, historian, lover of art, science and maths as well as fairy tales and stories. Hank had almost forgotten she was a child, it was like talking with one of his brighter grad students.

Along with the joy and delight had come fear and frustration. Asha still was a little girl and had displayed that by unthinkingly stepping out onto a busy New York street just moments after he had bribed her away from the met. She also threw a loud and embarrassing tantrum when he said it was time to go, calming down and agreeing to leave quietly when he bribed her with a combination of ice cream and a promise to let her use his personal library - just as soon as he had removed a couple of tomes that were definable as _not_ child friendly.

Shopping with a small person had been some experience - Hank sighed quietly as he signalled his way out of the city, turning gently to avoid disturbing her. Fortunately he had been the voice of reason and so had come away with a few more pairs of pants and serviceable t-shirts than pom-pom hats or tutus...although one frilly, brilliant pink tutu complete with silver sequins lurked unnecessarily on his back seat. The shop assistant had wrinkled her nose at him with a dewy eyed smile and called them both cute. Hank had given her an extra large tip just for that.

Despite his best efforts, the gravel on the drive of Xaviers school crunched beneath the tires as he pulled up, causing his little friend to grumble and turn in her sleep. Hank resisted a chuckle and slid soundlessly out of the car, closing the door quietly and reaching into the back seat to gather the multitude of bags - way too many bags for one small person in his opinion -

"Hey Blue, what's cookin?" Bobby Drake called out from where he'd been lounging against a patio chair.

"Ssh!" Hank signalled frantically for the Iceman to keep his voice down. Bobby grimaced and tip-toed over with over-exaggerated care but generously took most of the shopping bgs out of Hanks hand.

"What? Did you buy her whole shop? I know you're well paid, Hank, but dude." Bobby stage whispered as Hank tried to open Lyra's side of the car soundlessly.

"Have you ever, in your short life, been bombarded by not only over-talkative very determined saleswomen but also a small, cute, very determined, over talkative six year old?" Hank hissed, picking up the sleeping child carefully before turning and looking at the Ice man over the top of his glasses. "It's worse than being on trial." Bobby's grin showed up in the dark as he replied.

"Yeah, at least you don't have to pay much in court."

"Except a lawyer."

"And maybe a bribe or two."

"And the coffee is stupidly expensive." Together the two men padded silently through the halls of Xaviers School for the gifted and left Asha sleeping in her own bed.

"It sort of suits you, you know." Bobby said after a lengthy silence, coming to a natural stop outside the door of the kitchen.

"What? My fantastically cut Armani shirt?" Hank grinned. "Yes, yes, I know." He smoothed a hand back through his mane of hair - literal mane at the moment - and received a not-so-playful punch on the arm in return.

"I meant you being...with child." Bobby thumbed up the corridor, indicating the way back to Asha.

"With child? Bobby, I'm not pregnant."

"You know what I mean." The Iceman huffed a rare impatient sigh. "You're really good with her, Hank. Everyone's really proud. It's not like you don't have enough to deal with at the minute. You're doing great." He shrugged one shoulder, a little awkwardly, as if this said everything that needed to be and turned into the kitchen, determined to be the first to open the new case of soda.

Hank stood in the doorway for a moment, taken aback a little. He had tried, really and truly, not to let this new mutation get in the way of anything. When his hands had changed, pulsing and growing, rounding out to form paws with lethal claws at the tips, he had struggled so hard with the merest task. The flexibility he had been used to was gone. Even picking up a pencil was difficult, let alone the complicated surgery he was used to performing. The shape of his mouth, of his whole _face_, had at times, apparently been designed to make sure that he couldn't eat. And the eyes that met him in the mirror...Jean had said he looked dignified, Hank sometimes felt like an extra for the Lion King. It was good to know he was being watched, looked after. Sometimes he could forget how good a family the x-men were.

Smiling to himself, he put the car in the garage and, out of sheer habit, went straight to his computer. The screen-saver blinked off at his touch and the first thing he noticed was a madly flashing little icon in the corner of his screen.

"Oops." Hank clicked on it as he threw himself full length onto the sofa, wincing as it creaked in protest of his weight. A chat box opened and a long list of expletives and threats went off the page. The log on time was hours ago.

_Beast: You know, maybe we should arrange a time to chat so you don't have to get so stressed next time?_  
_LyraGold: Good plan. What about six o'clock in the evening? Where have you been?_

A rather calm reply after reading all that unpleasantness, Hank mused to himself with a grin.

_Beast: I can't do six. How about eight instead? Your daughter and I went to the Met. Then we went shopping._  
_LyraGold: Oh god. I'm so sorry!_  
_Beast: Why?_  
_LyraGold: You went shopping! With Asha! You brave, brave man. Eight sounds fine btw._

Hank laughed and reached over to the mini-fridge beside his seat for a beer.

_Beast: Ah, so she's always like that?_  
_LyraGold: I'll re-imburse you for any expenses._  
_Beast: Are you coming back then?_

The screen was blank for a good few minutes.

_Beast: Never mind. Sorry I asked._  
_LyraGold: It's ok. It's just a difficult question to answer. My work just gets in the way_  
_Beast: Your work? What is your work?_  
_LyraGold: Guess._  
_Beast: Airhostess?_  
_LyraGold: LOL! No! But thank you for thinking I'm that beautiful._  
_Beast: Well I just thought, with those wings, you'd be a good candidate. But yes, you are beautiful too._

"Hank, what are you doing?" He murmured to himself.

_Beast: Sorry, that was a little forward of me._  
_LyraGold: Don't worry about it, it's nice to be told that. If it's any kind of consolation you're beautiful too._

He stared at the screen, re-reading the words in shock over and over.

_LyraGold: There. Now we're both embarrassed._  
_LyraGold: Subject change, how is Asha?_

Hank took a deep breath and got a hold of himself long enough to type out an account of the day. It took a huge chunk of the page and a while to get a reply back.

_Beast: Still there?_  
_LyraGold: I'm here. God I miss her._  
_LyraGold: It must have been a really great day out._  
_LyraGold: Despite the tantrum._  
_Beast: It was. She misses you too._

Hank's heart went out to Lyra, wherever she was in the world, she was missing her little girl.

_LyraGold: Thank you for the Met though, she's always wanted to go._  
_Beast: I could tell. That kid knows so much_  
_LyraGold: Gotta go. Bye!_  
_#LyraGold logged out._

Hank blinked at the screen. Lyra's last message had appeared a split second after his reply. That was a very, very annoying habit she had. But...she'd said he was beautiful. Had she meant it or was it just something to ease the awkwardness of the situation? They were both adults after all but was she teasing or...? The question kept Hank's mind occupied for far longer than it should that night but he only had to wait a little while to find out her intentions.


	6. Chapter 6

Mini update. I'm getting there. I promise.

* * *

"I'm not going."

"Come on Ash, it'll be fun."

"Your argument isn't based in logic, only supposition." Asha hunkered further down in her seat, her still bare feet sticking over the cushion. "I am not going."

"You'll thank me for it when you're older." Hank pause in the process of gathering up small clothes and scowled at himself. "There now, you're making me spout parental cliche's, you should be ashamed, young lady." The ghost of a smile passed over the six-year-olds face - she'd grasped hold of sarcasm and irony quiet well. Hank had a feeling she would be hitting the rebellious stage much, much earlier than most children.

"I am desperately ashamed. Can't you see how ashamed I am?" In an attempt to hide his replying grin, Hank looked down at his watch.

"Come on, Asha, you're already half an hour late." He changed his tone to something his own father had used (stern and bordering angry) and was surprised when Asha gave in with a deep, heartfelt sigh, pushing her pajama clad self off the chair.

"Fine. But I'm not wearing _that_." She pointed in distaste to the small pair of jeans and sensible tee that Hank had pulled out of her closet.

"What's wrong with it?" He asked as she pushed past him - physically tying to push him out of the way cheekily. Her tiny fists pushed against his leg and she practically dived head-first into the admittedly extremely generous space.

"Fashion should be a statement of who you are." Came the muffled reply. "An expression of ones individuality and inner beauty, not an excuse to blend in with everyone else just because its safe." She re-appeared carrying a brilliant yellow play suit, sky blue tights tights, yellow welly-boots (despite the lack of rain) and a pretty blue hairband. Hank blinked down at her, turning his back as she started to get changed without preamble.

Hadn't there been a time when he had thought like that? When he hadn't cared about what others thought? When he had bravely done, said and worn exactly what he felt, when he felt like it? He looked down at his white button down shirt with it's rolled up sleeves and perfectly pressed collar. When had all that changed? His gaze drifted down his sleeve and onto the blue furred flesh, the paw like appendage where his hand had once resided. Ah yes. _Then_.

"Right, so are we going or what?" Asha piped up from behind him. Hank turned round and tried not to laugh. She looked impossibly cute, tiny fists on her waist and looking up at him with her head craned right back and an expression of impatience. "I _am_half an hour late you know." As if it was his fault. Hanks laughter boomed through his chest and he scooped her up for a quick tickle, heading out the door as her girly squeals mingling with his own mirth.

She swung happily in his arms as they walked down the deserted corridors - most people were already either in class, teaching or out training at this hour. Hank looked down at the little girl in his arms and for a moment allowed himself to feel pride and love as if he really _was_her father.

And then every window in the place imploded.


End file.
